seasons in the sun; for hoen
Title: seasons in the sun
Rating: NC-17
Side pairing/s: Jongin/Soojung
Length: 4262 words
Summary: We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the shores that we walked were just seasons out of time.
Warning/s: hints of depression.
Notes: loosely inspired by the movie, Mr Nobody. To my dearest recipient, I hope I did justice to your lovely prompt (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
Play
“You are very relaxed,” the doctor’s voice stills the pricking ripples in his mind, smoothing the creases in between his brows. Jongin finds his body going limp in the chair, melting into the black leather.
“You hear only my voice,” the doctor continues slowly as the pendulum swings along with Jongin’s heart, his eyes following it closely. The chamomile scent from the candle gradually wears off from the tip of his nose and Jongin starts to feel the sand slipping off his fingers, the salty taste of the ocean lingering at the tip of his tongue. The sound of the waves crashing gets louder and louder with each swing.
“Your eyelids are getting heavy.”
Black slowly seeps into his vision. But the dull yellow soon replaces the darkness in his lids, and Jongin feels the sun’s rays stinging at his eyes.
“Your arms and legs are getting heavy.”
Jongin starts to fall, into vast horizon of familiar azure, and the warmth of the sun wraps around his body with ease, like his second skin.
“I’m going to count to three,” the doctor’s droning voice pierces through the water silently, thudding gently against his ears. “When I say three, you will be asleep.”
Jongin’s head becomes lighter, the water breezes past his body, pushing him up into the surface. Jongin feels his head touching the surface of the water. And the ripples are back again. But they no longer hurt.
“One.”
The countdown starts, and the ripples follows, tripping against each other like dominos, the blue mixing with the mouldy green. The amber of the sun disappears from the water’s surface, Jongin feels cold.
“Two.”
“Remember,” the doctor’s voice is soft, far from where he is. Jongin sees the silhouette in the rain.
A smile.
Tears, tears and tears.
“Three.”
Only an ugly smudge of black remains.
Remember
Rewind
“Have you ever analyzed things, to the extent when you can’t remember the difference from what’s real and what you’ve created in your head?”
“Maybe a few times. But that’s really fucked up, isn’t it?”
“Aren’t we all fucked up?”
“Yeah, I guess we all are.”
The beginning.
It starts with the sun kissing the darkened clouds, the pelter gracing the grains, drowning them with the weight of its body. Jongin sees the boy standing in the middle of the beach, hand stretched out and head facing up to the sky. Jongin can’t tell if the boy was crying, or if it’s the rain crying on him. Red eyes meets with Jongin’s and his heart stops, but the gaze breaks within seconds and Jongin sees the boy break, crumbling down with the rain.
The beach soon becomes empty again, and what remains is the trail of footprints on the damp sand.
Jongin hears his uncle calling for him and finally moves away from the window. Hastily shoving the uniform into the corner of the shelf, Jongin takes a last glance at the window and the scene of the boy crying replays in his head, his eyes picturing the shrunken silhouette against the fallen raindrops. Jongin lets out a sigh before he makes his way out of the room he had stayed for weeks, grabbing his packed bag and the envelope filled with allowance he had earned.
That marks the end of his summer but it marks the beginning of a fascination.
The other beginning.
Jongin thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.
Her raven black hair glowing gently under the sun’s touch, the curve of her smile imprinted at the back of his eyes. Jongin sees her even when he’s sleeping, eyes close with nothing but her lingering in his breath. She filters through the strands of his fringe when he gets up from the waters, her reflection visible in every drop of salt dripping from his drenched hair.
Jongin thinks Soojung is lovely.
Lovely to her bones, her breath and her laughter, she smells of the rusted sand, of the damp wood by the sea, of everything Jongin thinks is lovely, Soojung is exactly like it. He can’t find any comparison that’s better than her, any sun that’s brighter than the one reflected in her iries. Soojung is irreplaceable, Soojung is--
His.
They shared silent kisses under the black skies that stretched across the sleeping horizon, under the gaze of the glimmering stars and maybe with the occasional presence of shooting stars. They throw up their wishes of love into the streaks following behind the bolting stars, whispers words of yearning and promises into the bodies of the fallen glow. Jongin tells her that he loves her, with every press of lips and graze of his finger. He remembers her skin, the way it melt under his touches, the way it quivers when he brushes against it, the way it screams his when he marks it with red and blue.
Her voice, it holds onto his ears, spreading through the drums with a warm buzz.
Her voice, it’s a part of his name, he hears her whenever the syllables of his name rolls out of a tongue. She’s everywhere with him and he with her. They are a whole, a one and everything. Jongin sees nothing without her, just a plain void of black and a smudge of uncertainty.
Soojung is his and Jongin is hers.
That’s how it’ll work.
Forever and ever.
The prologue.
The scorching sun is the best companion Jongin gets when he’s tending the reception for the summer. It would probably be more bearable if he’s playing under the stinging rays but nope, he’s stuck behind a counter, with an ugly bowtie and a pretentious smile. The hot air surrounds him in suffocating ropes of heat, wrapping his already sticky skin with more slick coats of sweat.
He is restless, staring out of the window, instead of watching the entrance for guests. Business at his uncle’s breakfast and bed has always been slow; Jongin thinks this summer won’t be an exception too. It'd be better, if the air conditioner is working and the sun is slightly gentler, or if he's running along the shore, too busy with the waves to be bothered with the blinding sun.
Jongin never stopped yearning for the beach, and that's probably a good enough reason for him to give up a job offer back at the city, a job that has a high minimum wage for a high school student and the perfect working conditions.
The beach had never left his mind. He thinks of how the sand feels under his feet when he's running across the soccer field, how the sea breeze dances past his face and through his hair when he's standing at the edge of the school rooftop, feeling the stale city air instead.
When Jongin remembers why he's here, he straightens his back, choosing to forget about the unbearable heat and remembering more of the beach he loves. This counter is the closest he can get to the beach.
For now.
The other prologue.
It was a chance encounter, Jongin’s eyes met with hers as the sea engulfed his body. He lost his board in the midst of the waves and he fell into the arms of the water, as deep as how he did with her eyes. What happened next was a pull, a pull from her firm hand and a pull of him to her.
They had promised to meet again, at the beach they both loved.
Suddenly there is anticipation for summer. The sun feels more enticing, with its rays roping Jongin’s heart into its core. Jongin can already feel the sand under his nails, the salty breeze whirling in his chest, pounding against his ribs like the crushing waves.
The scene.
Jongin gets distracted from the sun, lurking under the shadow of the abandoned footprints and soiled ground. The boy in the rain clouds his thoughts when he sleeps under the sun, he feels the soft wheezing of the drizzle instead of the burning sting from the sun, just the pair of red eyes staring into the back of his head.
Why did was he crying?
A million questions fester in his unsettling mind. Jongin pictures the scene again, piecing the memory with the vague bits he had hidden when he returned to the city.
Maybe if it rained again, Jongin might see the boy again. But what are the chances? It’s almost a year since he last saw him.
Despite the doubts and childish speculations, one question remains.
Is he still crying?
Pause
“I wish time would stop.”
“Well, they say if you breathe slowly, time will slow down too. “
The other scene.
When he finally meets Soojung’s brother, he reminds Jongin of black.
“That’s my brother,” Soojung’s voice resonates softly in his ears as her fingers skitter up his arm, resting on his shoulder as the heat pools on his skin. Jongin watches the smear of black brush past them, and he catches a gleaming grin on the shadow’s face.
Black of his eyes, black of his hair, just plain black. Even when he smiles.
“I don’t really see him often, because he always disappears.”
The darkness has devoured his sun.
“Baekhyun,” Soojung says the name and Jongin repeats after her. The syllables trembles on his tongue although its supposed to sound crisp and short. The name lingers on his mind. Too long, he thinks, as it echoes over and over again.
Jongin don’t really like him, he realises.
(Because he’s pretty unforgettable for a mere shadow.)
The scene.
Jongin believes in chances.
There is a purpose, a meaning, and a reason for the coin to show its tail. Or maybe it’s time to ditch the morning shift, says the coin when it shows the head.
Yes for tail, no for head.
Stay for tail, Ditch for head.
On the third day of Jongin’s summer (the second year since that particular raining day), it starts to rain and the coin lands on its head, not on its usual tail. When Jongin pries his fingers off the top of his hand, he sees several interpretations.
Head, it says.
Ditch, it says.
Find me, the boy says.
And Jongin runs out of the counter, dumping his bowtie onto it. He picks his favourite interpretation and replays it in his head.
Find him, Jongin says to himself.
And he does.
Right at the spot he had seen him two years ago, with all the glorious rain and bareness. The boy turns around and faces him.
The boy smiles.
Jongin thinks his smile is just as beautiful as his tears.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” says the boy.
Pause
“I wish time would stop.”
“Well, they say if you breathe slowly, time will slow down too. “
The other scene.
Jongin is sure that the shadow doesn’t like lurking around the sun, or so Soojung says, but he has been seeing him everywhere.
Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin’s shift is on, sitting at the corner of the lobby. Jongin accidentally memorizes the way his fingers curl around the edges of the magazine Baekhyun was reading. Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin hangs the sheets out in the sun to dry, and Jongin accidentally memorizes the hue of his eyes that reflects the sun perfectly. Baekhyun’s there whenever Soojung presses her lips at the side of Jongin’s head, and Jongin starts thinking of the thin lips that curls up whenever their eyes met. Baekhyun’s there when Jongin laces his fingers through Soojung’s hair, and he’d remember the way Baekhyun’s raven black hair dances in the midst of the summer’s breeze. Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin looks at Soojung, he lingers in Soojung’s beautiful black irises.
Baekhyun’s there wherever Jongin is.
And Jongin hates it.
Jongin forgets that wherever the sun is, there will always be shadows.
“I think my brother likes you,” Soojung says with a soft smirk playing on her lips. Jongin tenses at her words, but relaxes soon after when Soojung leans closer to rest her head on his shoulder.
“That’s good, you know,” Soojung sighs happily, “because I really really like you.”
It takes Jongin a long minute to realize the differences in the likes Soojung was talking about.
Baekhyun likes him.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him and Soojung being together.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him and Soojung being together. And there’s nothing more to it.
And Soojung likes him.
And Soojung likes him.
And Soojung likes him.
Jongin likes Soojung.
He must.
The scene.
Jongin starts spending his breaks with the boy. He is always at the same spot, whether rain or shine, waiting.
“Why are you always alone?” Jongin always asks him whenever they meet. The boy will let out a laugh that’s louder than the frown in his eyes, and it gets louder and louder each time Jongin asks.
When Jongin was younger, he used to take walks with his uncle and they would hunt for crabs near the shore. Jongin always searched for the little hermit crabs under the rocks because he was intrigued by the way it shrivels into its shell. It hides whenever it sees light.
Jongin thinks the boy is like the hermit crab.
And he shrivels into his shell whenever he laughs, deeper and deeper the more Jongin probes.
“You were crying when I first saw you. You were in the rain, staring at the sky with tears in your eyes. Do you remember that?”
“How do you know they were tears? It might be the rain, you know.”
“I just knew they were tears.”
The boy doesn’t speak after that, and for every other afternoons when Jongin’s there.
But Jongin doesn’t mind it. It’s better, he reckons, because he gets to watch the boy in comfortable silence. The way his eyes stare far out into the horizon and the way it gets lost in it. The way the loose strands of his hair flutter with every touch of the wave’s breath. The way the orbs of his eyes get darker as the sun set. Jongin loves it all. Soon the frown in the eyes is as deep as the ocean, no laughter can hide the sadness it’s drenched in.
It takes two weeks before the boy speaks again, and it’s with the tears he saw when their eyes first met. By the time that happens, Jongin had the boy’s face embossed into the back of his head like a tattoo and he becomes familiar with the cracks on the boy’s shell.
It took Jongin almost a month for him to learn the boy’s name.
It took Jongin almost two years for him to realize how in love he is with the boy.
“Byun Baekhyun,” Jongin says as he wipes the boy’s tears away, “it’s nice to finally know you. How do you do?”
“I’m not well. I’m not well,” the boy, no Baekhyun, repeats as he buries his face in Jongin’s chest. Jongin pats his back slowly, nodding as he whispers ‘it’s okay’ over and over again.
What Jongin meant was, thank you for being honest.
What Jongin meant was, I’m here now, don’t be afraid.
What Jongin meant was, finally.
The darkness has devoured the sun.
And it’s alright, because Jongin had always understood the beauty of black, ever since the day he first saw the boy with the tears.
The other scene.
It scares Jongin, how often he is thinking of that smear of black. He can’t erase it, no matter how hard he tries. Now, the tremble of Soojung’s scent last only for a mere second, whilst the presence of the long slender fingers tapping against the counter, linger for the rest of the day.
Guilt becomes the stiches on Soojung’s skin when he glazes his lips over it, the prick from his guts when he hears her laughter, everything that he loved, or so he thought. Guilt, Jongin thinks, is a nightmare shaped in the silhouette of a crouching girl, looking at his with forlorn eyes.
“Jongin, something changed. No. You changed.”
Jongin’s consciousness denies the wrong, he grasps desperately onto the last of his sanity, a sanity named Jung Soojung.
“No. You’re over thinking.” Jongin murmurs as he shifts closer to her, wrapping his arm around her stiff shoulders. She feels cold, rigid and- Jongin is frightened.
All the wonderful things she had for him left.
“Is my brother bothering you?”
Jongin’s fear gets the better of him.
“He’s always there whenever it’s my shift. It’s getting on my nerves,” Jongin blurts with his heart muted. The screams of denial pound painfully against his chest. But he ignores them all, only clenching his fists tightly till they turn white.
Jongin hears a soft gasp and he turns, only to catch a glimpse of the dreaded shadow.
The climax.
Something is different. There is a pause whenever Baekhyun tries to touch him, there is a flinch whenever Jongin calls him, there is pain whenever Baekhyun frowns. No more emptiness, Baekhyun is filled with agony today, Jongin notices.
“What’s wrong?” Jongin asks.
“Jongin, I think I’m leaving. To a place far from here.”
When the darkness he is basking in leaves, the sudden exposure of light stings. Jongin grips onto Baekhyun’s wrist tightly.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Jongin. It’ll be fine. My dad’s taking me to see a doctor. He says I will get better,” Baekhyun pats his hand gently, “we can still be friends. We can send letters and-“
“No,” Jongin breath out shakily. Not friends. That’s not why he is here. That’s not why he would leave the beach. That’s not why he feels so lost whenever Baekhyun isn’t around.
Jongin moves away from Baekhyun’s touch. “We can’t be friends. We can’t.”
“What are you saying? All these weeks with me, what are they? You said you’ll be there for me-“
“No,” Jongin cuts in, his voice as loud as his screaming heart. “Not this way.”
“What do you want from me? I’m nothing. My head is empty, my heart is numb, I have nothing to offer, nothing but friendship.”
Jongin closes his eyes, his hands trembling as he repeats Baekhyun’s words in his head. In the midst of the tension, the sound of the crashing waves fill the suffocating silence Jongin had left behind. Jongin takes in a deep breath.
“I want you. Just you. That’s enough.”
“I am-“
“No,” Jongin opens his eyes slowly, his heart palpitating when Baekhyun fills his vision. Tangled strand of black fallen on the sides of his cheeks, his glassy eyes glaring with confusion. Jongin reaches out and he cups Baekhyun’s cheeks gently. “I want you. I want everything. I want to hear you breath when you sleep next to me, I want to feel your lips and taste the gum you’re always chewing on. I wanted so much from you, I was afraid you’d run if you knew about it. But if you’re going to leave, I- I don’t think I’ll do nothing.”
“Jongin,” Baekhyun whispers, “I’m not enough. I can’t-”
“I love you, right from the very start.”
Baekhyun stares at the ground blankly as he runs his hands through his own hair over and over again. Jongin grabs his hands, holding them firmly. Baekhyun’s hands were trembling, just like his own.
“Do you,” Jongin pauses, biting on his lips as he lets the words fall out, the question he had dreamt of asking over and over again. “Do you love me?”
Baekhyun looks up slowly.
“Always.”
The other climax.
“Hey.”
Jongin stares at the figure before him with wide eyes. He quickly straightens his back and he clears his throat, lips forming an empty smile.
“Baekhyun,” Jongin says in a firm voice, although his heart is shaking. Baekhyun lets out a laugh as he leans forward to ruffle Jongin’s hair. Jongin missed the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers through his hair; he missed the brightness of his laughter and the glimmer of his crinkling eyes.
But when he remembers what he had said last week, Jongin moves away. Baekhyun chuckles, and Jongin hears a hint of pain in it. Jongin stiffens at the disappointment in Baekhyun’s gaze. So Jongin tears his eyes away from Baekhyun’s eyes. It was too suffocating.
“Why are you here?” Jongin asks coldly.
“To say goodbye.”
Jongin looks up. “What?”
“I’m leaving this town. To study and,” Baekhyun pats Jongin’s cheek, “to move on.”
The affection in his actions causes Jongin to flinch. Baekhyun moves his hand away slowly, his smile faltering.
“I love- no, I loved you. So I’m saying goodbye, to you and to the feelings I had. They were wrong, aren’t they? I’m not supposed to-” Baekhyun lets out a shaky breath, “I made Soojung sad and I made you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry. This will be the last time I’ll see you, don’t worry.”
Baekhyun takes a few steps back.
“Goodbye, Kim Jongin. I hope you’ll be happy with Soojung.”
And he sprints out of the door.
Jongin stares at the ajar door for the longest time.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
And Jongin likes Baekhyun, Jongin realises.
But it’s too late.
Baekhyun’s never coming back.
The end.
Black, is what Jongin thinks of when Baekhyun invades his thoughts.
Black means blank, black means void, black means dark strands of hair falling down stretches of pale skin, black means the empty irises that stare into his soul, searching for his loss in Jongin’s head.
Black means the flats and the sharps of a forgotten tune, a hymn of the summers and the harmony to the ivories. The black that compliments the long slender fingers, fingers that his skin and scalp is so used to, fingers that weave through the sand and his drenched hair.
Jongin thinks of how different they are, how Baekhyun would rather dance in the rain and how Jongin preferred to bask in the sun’s grace, how Baekhyun sounds like the moon’s tears, moving waves with its wanes and fullness, and how Jongin mold his body into the sun, bronze sparkling with the ocean’s dew. Jongin is as clear as white, his emotions laid splayed in the open for all but Baekhyun, he’s like the dark, seeping around the corners to avoid, he prefers the security of elusiveness.
“Why me?” Baekhyun asks, his face buried in the crook of Jongin’s neck. Jongin brushes his fingers down the bare skin, tracing the curl of his spine.
“Because you’re you.”
Jongin presses a kiss to the side of Baekhyun’s head, burying his nose in the pit of black.
Baekhyun is the perfect kind of black.
“Wait for me here, every summer,” Baekhyun presses his lips urgently against Jongin’s, and Jongin shudders at the graze of his dry lips. He tastes the beach, the rain and everything he loved. “Until you see me.”
Jongin rests his fingers on the sides of Baekhyun’s face, tracing the bumps and the freckles tenderly, memorizing every bits of his face and craving them all into his heart. It hurts when he does that but it’s the only he can do right now. Hurting and loving, hurting when he loves, loving when it hurts. Baekhyun is both love and hurt. He is the start of and the end he can only think of in this life, and nothing else matters.
“I promise. For life, okay?”
Jongin innocently signs his heart to a slow death, unconsciously waiting for a blessing in this curse, mistaking this love as a sanity he needs when it’s an insanity he must run from.
Just like summer, he can’t run from Baekhyun.
He never could.
His summer will forever be Baekhyun and nothing can change that.
The other end.
For the next few summers, Jongin stays behind the counter, with the ridiculous bowtie and a permanent scowl. Secretly, he is waiting for that shadow and his gleaming grin.
But Jongin never sees him again.
Jongin hasn’t been to the beach since then, the black had blinded him. The sun becomes nothing for him. The beach reminded Jongin of Soojung, a regret he wishes to discard so badly. The breezy scent of her when she dances around him, the way the wind brushes against his skin, just like how her hair did when it falls over his shoulder. Everything was a remainder of how Jongin lost Baekhyun.
Jongin left Soojung that summer, just like how Baekhyun did.
That summer of ups and downs, that summer when Jongin had fell in love with a boy, that summer when everything ends.
Summer was a pain.
Summer is still a pain.
Stop.
Blue turns to black.
And black turns to white.
Jongin returns, feeling emptier than before, as though he had left something important, somewhere in his head. Maybe he did, but yet he feels that it’s alright, to leave it all behind. The sounds of the waves glazing the grains of the sand and the scent of the sun drying up his damp hair, it all fades away as a distant memory. The youth his heart had felt evaporates and he is left with the aftermath of time.
“So, which is the real reality?” the doctor asks, his eyes buried in the file. Jongin shrugs.
“Doesn’t matter, he loves me in both.”
“And do you?“ The doctor inquires carefully. Jongin’s lips curves up slowly as he begins to tap his fingers on his lap, watching the doctor through the strands of his silver hair.
“I think so. Very much.”
Jongin is still waiting.
Rating: NC-17
Side pairing/s: Jongin/Soojung
Length: 4262 words
Summary: We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the shores that we walked were just seasons out of time.
Warning/s: hints of depression.
Notes: loosely inspired by the movie, Mr Nobody. To my dearest recipient, I hope I did justice to your lovely prompt (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
Play
“You are very relaxed,” the doctor’s voice stills the pricking ripples in his mind, smoothing the creases in between his brows. Jongin finds his body going limp in the chair, melting into the black leather.
“You hear only my voice,” the doctor continues slowly as the pendulum swings along with Jongin’s heart, his eyes following it closely. The chamomile scent from the candle gradually wears off from the tip of his nose and Jongin starts to feel the sand slipping off his fingers, the salty taste of the ocean lingering at the tip of his tongue. The sound of the waves crashing gets louder and louder with each swing.
“Your eyelids are getting heavy.”
Black slowly seeps into his vision. But the dull yellow soon replaces the darkness in his lids, and Jongin feels the sun’s rays stinging at his eyes.
“Your arms and legs are getting heavy.”
Jongin starts to fall, into vast horizon of familiar azure, and the warmth of the sun wraps around his body with ease, like his second skin.
“I’m going to count to three,” the doctor’s droning voice pierces through the water silently, thudding gently against his ears. “When I say three, you will be asleep.”
Jongin’s head becomes lighter, the water breezes past his body, pushing him up into the surface. Jongin feels his head touching the surface of the water. And the ripples are back again. But they no longer hurt.
“One.”
The countdown starts, and the ripples follows, tripping against each other like dominos, the blue mixing with the mouldy green. The amber of the sun disappears from the water’s surface, Jongin feels cold.
“Two.”
“Remember,” the doctor’s voice is soft, far from where he is. Jongin sees the silhouette in the rain.
A smile.
Tears, tears and tears.
“Three.”
Only an ugly smudge of black remains.
Remember
Rewind
“Have you ever analyzed things, to the extent when you can’t remember the difference from what’s real and what you’ve created in your head?”
“Maybe a few times. But that’s really fucked up, isn’t it?”
“Aren’t we all fucked up?”
“Yeah, I guess we all are.”
The beginning.
It starts with the sun kissing the darkened clouds, the pelter gracing the grains, drowning them with the weight of its body. Jongin sees the boy standing in the middle of the beach, hand stretched out and head facing up to the sky. Jongin can’t tell if the boy was crying, or if it’s the rain crying on him. Red eyes meets with Jongin’s and his heart stops, but the gaze breaks within seconds and Jongin sees the boy break, crumbling down with the rain.
The beach soon becomes empty again, and what remains is the trail of footprints on the damp sand.
Jongin hears his uncle calling for him and finally moves away from the window. Hastily shoving the uniform into the corner of the shelf, Jongin takes a last glance at the window and the scene of the boy crying replays in his head, his eyes picturing the shrunken silhouette against the fallen raindrops. Jongin lets out a sigh before he makes his way out of the room he had stayed for weeks, grabbing his packed bag and the envelope filled with allowance he had earned.
That marks the end of his summer but it marks the beginning of a fascination.
The other beginning.
Jongin thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.
Her raven black hair glowing gently under the sun’s touch, the curve of her smile imprinted at the back of his eyes. Jongin sees her even when he’s sleeping, eyes close with nothing but her lingering in his breath. She filters through the strands of his fringe when he gets up from the waters, her reflection visible in every drop of salt dripping from his drenched hair.
Jongin thinks Soojung is lovely.
Lovely to her bones, her breath and her laughter, she smells of the rusted sand, of the damp wood by the sea, of everything Jongin thinks is lovely, Soojung is exactly like it. He can’t find any comparison that’s better than her, any sun that’s brighter than the one reflected in her iries. Soojung is irreplaceable, Soojung is--
His.
They shared silent kisses under the black skies that stretched across the sleeping horizon, under the gaze of the glimmering stars and maybe with the occasional presence of shooting stars. They throw up their wishes of love into the streaks following behind the bolting stars, whispers words of yearning and promises into the bodies of the fallen glow. Jongin tells her that he loves her, with every press of lips and graze of his finger. He remembers her skin, the way it melt under his touches, the way it quivers when he brushes against it, the way it screams his when he marks it with red and blue.
Her voice, it holds onto his ears, spreading through the drums with a warm buzz.
Her voice, it’s a part of his name, he hears her whenever the syllables of his name rolls out of a tongue. She’s everywhere with him and he with her. They are a whole, a one and everything. Jongin sees nothing without her, just a plain void of black and a smudge of uncertainty.
Soojung is his and Jongin is hers.
That’s how it’ll work.
Forever and ever.
The prologue.
The scorching sun is the best companion Jongin gets when he’s tending the reception for the summer. It would probably be more bearable if he’s playing under the stinging rays but nope, he’s stuck behind a counter, with an ugly bowtie and a pretentious smile. The hot air surrounds him in suffocating ropes of heat, wrapping his already sticky skin with more slick coats of sweat.
He is restless, staring out of the window, instead of watching the entrance for guests. Business at his uncle’s breakfast and bed has always been slow; Jongin thinks this summer won’t be an exception too. It'd be better, if the air conditioner is working and the sun is slightly gentler, or if he's running along the shore, too busy with the waves to be bothered with the blinding sun.
Jongin never stopped yearning for the beach, and that's probably a good enough reason for him to give up a job offer back at the city, a job that has a high minimum wage for a high school student and the perfect working conditions.
The beach had never left his mind. He thinks of how the sand feels under his feet when he's running across the soccer field, how the sea breeze dances past his face and through his hair when he's standing at the edge of the school rooftop, feeling the stale city air instead.
When Jongin remembers why he's here, he straightens his back, choosing to forget about the unbearable heat and remembering more of the beach he loves. This counter is the closest he can get to the beach.
For now.
The other prologue.
It was a chance encounter, Jongin’s eyes met with hers as the sea engulfed his body. He lost his board in the midst of the waves and he fell into the arms of the water, as deep as how he did with her eyes. What happened next was a pull, a pull from her firm hand and a pull of him to her.
They had promised to meet again, at the beach they both loved.
Suddenly there is anticipation for summer. The sun feels more enticing, with its rays roping Jongin’s heart into its core. Jongin can already feel the sand under his nails, the salty breeze whirling in his chest, pounding against his ribs like the crushing waves.
The scene.
Jongin gets distracted from the sun, lurking under the shadow of the abandoned footprints and soiled ground. The boy in the rain clouds his thoughts when he sleeps under the sun, he feels the soft wheezing of the drizzle instead of the burning sting from the sun, just the pair of red eyes staring into the back of his head.
Why did was he crying?
A million questions fester in his unsettling mind. Jongin pictures the scene again, piecing the memory with the vague bits he had hidden when he returned to the city.
Maybe if it rained again, Jongin might see the boy again. But what are the chances? It’s almost a year since he last saw him.
Despite the doubts and childish speculations, one question remains.
Is he still crying?
Pause
“I wish time would stop.”
“Well, they say if you breathe slowly, time will slow down too. “
The other scene.
When he finally meets Soojung’s brother, he reminds Jongin of black.
“That’s my brother,” Soojung’s voice resonates softly in his ears as her fingers skitter up his arm, resting on his shoulder as the heat pools on his skin. Jongin watches the smear of black brush past them, and he catches a gleaming grin on the shadow’s face.
Black of his eyes, black of his hair, just plain black. Even when he smiles.
“I don’t really see him often, because he always disappears.”
The darkness has devoured his sun.
“Baekhyun,” Soojung says the name and Jongin repeats after her. The syllables trembles on his tongue although its supposed to sound crisp and short. The name lingers on his mind. Too long, he thinks, as it echoes over and over again.
Jongin don’t really like him, he realises.
(Because he’s pretty unforgettable for a mere shadow.)
The scene.
Jongin believes in chances.
There is a purpose, a meaning, and a reason for the coin to show its tail. Or maybe it’s time to ditch the morning shift, says the coin when it shows the head.
Yes for tail, no for head.
Stay for tail, Ditch for head.
On the third day of Jongin’s summer (the second year since that particular raining day), it starts to rain and the coin lands on its head, not on its usual tail. When Jongin pries his fingers off the top of his hand, he sees several interpretations.
Head, it says.
Ditch, it says.
Find me, the boy says.
And Jongin runs out of the counter, dumping his bowtie onto it. He picks his favourite interpretation and replays it in his head.
Find him, Jongin says to himself.
And he does.
Right at the spot he had seen him two years ago, with all the glorious rain and bareness. The boy turns around and faces him.
The boy smiles.
Jongin thinks his smile is just as beautiful as his tears.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” says the boy.
Pause
“I wish time would stop.”
“Well, they say if you breathe slowly, time will slow down too. “
The other scene.
Jongin is sure that the shadow doesn’t like lurking around the sun, or so Soojung says, but he has been seeing him everywhere.
Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin’s shift is on, sitting at the corner of the lobby. Jongin accidentally memorizes the way his fingers curl around the edges of the magazine Baekhyun was reading. Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin hangs the sheets out in the sun to dry, and Jongin accidentally memorizes the hue of his eyes that reflects the sun perfectly. Baekhyun’s there whenever Soojung presses her lips at the side of Jongin’s head, and Jongin starts thinking of the thin lips that curls up whenever their eyes met. Baekhyun’s there when Jongin laces his fingers through Soojung’s hair, and he’d remember the way Baekhyun’s raven black hair dances in the midst of the summer’s breeze. Baekhyun’s there whenever Jongin looks at Soojung, he lingers in Soojung’s beautiful black irises.
Baekhyun’s there wherever Jongin is.
And Jongin hates it.
Jongin forgets that wherever the sun is, there will always be shadows.
“I think my brother likes you,” Soojung says with a soft smirk playing on her lips. Jongin tenses at her words, but relaxes soon after when Soojung leans closer to rest her head on his shoulder.
“That’s good, you know,” Soojung sighs happily, “because I really really like you.”
It takes Jongin a long minute to realize the differences in the likes Soojung was talking about.
Baekhyun likes him.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him and Soojung being together.
Baekhyun likes him and approves of him and Soojung being together. And there’s nothing more to it.
And Soojung likes him.
And Soojung likes him.
And Soojung likes him.
Jongin likes Soojung.
He must.
The scene.
Jongin starts spending his breaks with the boy. He is always at the same spot, whether rain or shine, waiting.
“Why are you always alone?” Jongin always asks him whenever they meet. The boy will let out a laugh that’s louder than the frown in his eyes, and it gets louder and louder each time Jongin asks.
When Jongin was younger, he used to take walks with his uncle and they would hunt for crabs near the shore. Jongin always searched for the little hermit crabs under the rocks because he was intrigued by the way it shrivels into its shell. It hides whenever it sees light.
Jongin thinks the boy is like the hermit crab.
And he shrivels into his shell whenever he laughs, deeper and deeper the more Jongin probes.
“You were crying when I first saw you. You were in the rain, staring at the sky with tears in your eyes. Do you remember that?”
“How do you know they were tears? It might be the rain, you know.”
“I just knew they were tears.”
The boy doesn’t speak after that, and for every other afternoons when Jongin’s there.
But Jongin doesn’t mind it. It’s better, he reckons, because he gets to watch the boy in comfortable silence. The way his eyes stare far out into the horizon and the way it gets lost in it. The way the loose strands of his hair flutter with every touch of the wave’s breath. The way the orbs of his eyes get darker as the sun set. Jongin loves it all. Soon the frown in the eyes is as deep as the ocean, no laughter can hide the sadness it’s drenched in.
It takes two weeks before the boy speaks again, and it’s with the tears he saw when their eyes first met. By the time that happens, Jongin had the boy’s face embossed into the back of his head like a tattoo and he becomes familiar with the cracks on the boy’s shell.
It took Jongin almost a month for him to learn the boy’s name.
It took Jongin almost two years for him to realize how in love he is with the boy.
“Byun Baekhyun,” Jongin says as he wipes the boy’s tears away, “it’s nice to finally know you. How do you do?”
“I’m not well. I’m not well,” the boy, no Baekhyun, repeats as he buries his face in Jongin’s chest. Jongin pats his back slowly, nodding as he whispers ‘it’s okay’ over and over again.
What Jongin meant was, thank you for being honest.
What Jongin meant was, I’m here now, don’t be afraid.
What Jongin meant was, finally.
The darkness has devoured the sun.
And it’s alright, because Jongin had always understood the beauty of black, ever since the day he first saw the boy with the tears.
The other scene.
It scares Jongin, how often he is thinking of that smear of black. He can’t erase it, no matter how hard he tries. Now, the tremble of Soojung’s scent last only for a mere second, whilst the presence of the long slender fingers tapping against the counter, linger for the rest of the day.
Guilt becomes the stiches on Soojung’s skin when he glazes his lips over it, the prick from his guts when he hears her laughter, everything that he loved, or so he thought. Guilt, Jongin thinks, is a nightmare shaped in the silhouette of a crouching girl, looking at his with forlorn eyes.
“Jongin, something changed. No. You changed.”
Jongin’s consciousness denies the wrong, he grasps desperately onto the last of his sanity, a sanity named Jung Soojung.
“No. You’re over thinking.” Jongin murmurs as he shifts closer to her, wrapping his arm around her stiff shoulders. She feels cold, rigid and- Jongin is frightened.
All the wonderful things she had for him left.
“Is my brother bothering you?”
Jongin’s fear gets the better of him.
“He’s always there whenever it’s my shift. It’s getting on my nerves,” Jongin blurts with his heart muted. The screams of denial pound painfully against his chest. But he ignores them all, only clenching his fists tightly till they turn white.
Jongin hears a soft gasp and he turns, only to catch a glimpse of the dreaded shadow.
The climax.
Something is different. There is a pause whenever Baekhyun tries to touch him, there is a flinch whenever Jongin calls him, there is pain whenever Baekhyun frowns. No more emptiness, Baekhyun is filled with agony today, Jongin notices.
“What’s wrong?” Jongin asks.
“Jongin, I think I’m leaving. To a place far from here.”
When the darkness he is basking in leaves, the sudden exposure of light stings. Jongin grips onto Baekhyun’s wrist tightly.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Jongin. It’ll be fine. My dad’s taking me to see a doctor. He says I will get better,” Baekhyun pats his hand gently, “we can still be friends. We can send letters and-“
“No,” Jongin breath out shakily. Not friends. That’s not why he is here. That’s not why he would leave the beach. That’s not why he feels so lost whenever Baekhyun isn’t around.
Jongin moves away from Baekhyun’s touch. “We can’t be friends. We can’t.”
“What are you saying? All these weeks with me, what are they? You said you’ll be there for me-“
“No,” Jongin cuts in, his voice as loud as his screaming heart. “Not this way.”
“What do you want from me? I’m nothing. My head is empty, my heart is numb, I have nothing to offer, nothing but friendship.”
Jongin closes his eyes, his hands trembling as he repeats Baekhyun’s words in his head. In the midst of the tension, the sound of the crashing waves fill the suffocating silence Jongin had left behind. Jongin takes in a deep breath.
“I want you. Just you. That’s enough.”
“I am-“
“No,” Jongin opens his eyes slowly, his heart palpitating when Baekhyun fills his vision. Tangled strand of black fallen on the sides of his cheeks, his glassy eyes glaring with confusion. Jongin reaches out and he cups Baekhyun’s cheeks gently. “I want you. I want everything. I want to hear you breath when you sleep next to me, I want to feel your lips and taste the gum you’re always chewing on. I wanted so much from you, I was afraid you’d run if you knew about it. But if you’re going to leave, I- I don’t think I’ll do nothing.”
“Jongin,” Baekhyun whispers, “I’m not enough. I can’t-”
“I love you, right from the very start.”
Baekhyun stares at the ground blankly as he runs his hands through his own hair over and over again. Jongin grabs his hands, holding them firmly. Baekhyun’s hands were trembling, just like his own.
“Do you,” Jongin pauses, biting on his lips as he lets the words fall out, the question he had dreamt of asking over and over again. “Do you love me?”
Baekhyun looks up slowly.
“Always.”
The other climax.
“Hey.”
Jongin stares at the figure before him with wide eyes. He quickly straightens his back and he clears his throat, lips forming an empty smile.
“Baekhyun,” Jongin says in a firm voice, although his heart is shaking. Baekhyun lets out a laugh as he leans forward to ruffle Jongin’s hair. Jongin missed the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers through his hair; he missed the brightness of his laughter and the glimmer of his crinkling eyes.
But when he remembers what he had said last week, Jongin moves away. Baekhyun chuckles, and Jongin hears a hint of pain in it. Jongin stiffens at the disappointment in Baekhyun’s gaze. So Jongin tears his eyes away from Baekhyun’s eyes. It was too suffocating.
“Why are you here?” Jongin asks coldly.
“To say goodbye.”
Jongin looks up. “What?”
“I’m leaving this town. To study and,” Baekhyun pats Jongin’s cheek, “to move on.”
The affection in his actions causes Jongin to flinch. Baekhyun moves his hand away slowly, his smile faltering.
“I love- no, I loved you. So I’m saying goodbye, to you and to the feelings I had. They were wrong, aren’t they? I’m not supposed to-” Baekhyun lets out a shaky breath, “I made Soojung sad and I made you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry. This will be the last time I’ll see you, don’t worry.”
Baekhyun takes a few steps back.
“Goodbye, Kim Jongin. I hope you’ll be happy with Soojung.”
And he sprints out of the door.
Jongin stares at the ajar door for the longest time.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
Baekhyun likes Jongin.
And Jongin likes Baekhyun, Jongin realises.
But it’s too late.
Baekhyun’s never coming back.
The end.
Black, is what Jongin thinks of when Baekhyun invades his thoughts.
Black means blank, black means void, black means dark strands of hair falling down stretches of pale skin, black means the empty irises that stare into his soul, searching for his loss in Jongin’s head.
Black means the flats and the sharps of a forgotten tune, a hymn of the summers and the harmony to the ivories. The black that compliments the long slender fingers, fingers that his skin and scalp is so used to, fingers that weave through the sand and his drenched hair.
Jongin thinks of how different they are, how Baekhyun would rather dance in the rain and how Jongin preferred to bask in the sun’s grace, how Baekhyun sounds like the moon’s tears, moving waves with its wanes and fullness, and how Jongin mold his body into the sun, bronze sparkling with the ocean’s dew. Jongin is as clear as white, his emotions laid splayed in the open for all but Baekhyun, he’s like the dark, seeping around the corners to avoid, he prefers the security of elusiveness.
“Why me?” Baekhyun asks, his face buried in the crook of Jongin’s neck. Jongin brushes his fingers down the bare skin, tracing the curl of his spine.
“Because you’re you.”
Jongin presses a kiss to the side of Baekhyun’s head, burying his nose in the pit of black.
Baekhyun is the perfect kind of black.
“Wait for me here, every summer,” Baekhyun presses his lips urgently against Jongin’s, and Jongin shudders at the graze of his dry lips. He tastes the beach, the rain and everything he loved. “Until you see me.”
Jongin rests his fingers on the sides of Baekhyun’s face, tracing the bumps and the freckles tenderly, memorizing every bits of his face and craving them all into his heart. It hurts when he does that but it’s the only he can do right now. Hurting and loving, hurting when he loves, loving when it hurts. Baekhyun is both love and hurt. He is the start of and the end he can only think of in this life, and nothing else matters.
“I promise. For life, okay?”
Jongin innocently signs his heart to a slow death, unconsciously waiting for a blessing in this curse, mistaking this love as a sanity he needs when it’s an insanity he must run from.
Just like summer, he can’t run from Baekhyun.
He never could.
His summer will forever be Baekhyun and nothing can change that.
The other end.
For the next few summers, Jongin stays behind the counter, with the ridiculous bowtie and a permanent scowl. Secretly, he is waiting for that shadow and his gleaming grin.
But Jongin never sees him again.
Jongin hasn’t been to the beach since then, the black had blinded him. The sun becomes nothing for him. The beach reminded Jongin of Soojung, a regret he wishes to discard so badly. The breezy scent of her when she dances around him, the way the wind brushes against his skin, just like how her hair did when it falls over his shoulder. Everything was a remainder of how Jongin lost Baekhyun.
Jongin left Soojung that summer, just like how Baekhyun did.
That summer of ups and downs, that summer when Jongin had fell in love with a boy, that summer when everything ends.
Summer was a pain.
Summer is still a pain.
Stop.
Blue turns to black.
And black turns to white.
Jongin returns, feeling emptier than before, as though he had left something important, somewhere in his head. Maybe he did, but yet he feels that it’s alright, to leave it all behind. The sounds of the waves glazing the grains of the sand and the scent of the sun drying up his damp hair, it all fades away as a distant memory. The youth his heart had felt evaporates and he is left with the aftermath of time.
“So, which is the real reality?” the doctor asks, his eyes buried in the file. Jongin shrugs.
“Doesn’t matter, he loves me in both.”
“And do you?“ The doctor inquires carefully. Jongin’s lips curves up slowly as he begins to tap his fingers on his lap, watching the doctor through the strands of his silver hair.
“I think so. Very much.”
Jongin is still waiting.